Friends And Enemies
by Paladin Steelbreaker
Summary: Buffy Fights Drusilla and nearly dies. Stil there is no rest for The Slayer. As a Warrior Sorceress Of The First Sircle Of hell, comes to town. But when everything looks black, a mysterious woman appears, saying she will help them. Can she be trusted? And
1. Fighting Drusilla

Author: Paladin Steelbreaker

Title: Friends and enemies

Copyright: March 2001

Rating: R for Violence (Strongly violent scenes)

Spoilers: Buffy: up until the end of season 3.

Keywords: Drusilla, Chatla the Great.

Summary: Buffy fights Drusilla, and just barely survives the fight. Still there is no such thing as a rest for the Slayer. The Hellmouth never rests. On top of all the normal activity, a warrior sorceress of the First Circle of Hell is coming to town. A foe so strong that even a Buffy, in top condition, would be unlikely to survive. And then an unknown woman appears saying that she can help them. Who is she? And can she be trusted.

Legalese: All characters except those noted below with their respective rights, properties and copyrights are the property of their respective creators, authors, owners, producers and agencies. These characters are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended or meant, and no money will be made from this story. This story may be copied in its entirety, and may be distributed as long as all copyright information remains.

The characters Man on the plane, and Chatla the Great are mine. Did you hear that! Mine! Mine! Mine! (Uh, sorry. I got kind of carried away). Anyone wishing to use Chatla may contact me at pal-o-loonline.no

Author's Notes: FINALLY, I got this one beta'ed. I know it has taken a long time, and I apologise for that.

I would also give big thanks to my Beta Readers and Editor The Red Dragons Order and Grossclout. Without them this story would have been a lot harder to read.

Dedications: I would like to dedicate this story, how ever amateurish, in memory to maybe the best fanfic writer ever. He will be missed for a long time.

**_Tim Knight _**May he rest in peace.

If your want to comment on my story. Compliments, or fire spitting criticism, you are welcome to mail me at this address: pal-o-loonline.no

Now on with the story:

FRIENDS AND ENEMIES 

The basement of the old factory was swarming with vampires. And in the middle of them, Buffy was fighting for her life.

She had come to the factory when she learned that her friends were kept prisoners there. She had run in and got them loose. Then she had taken on the whole vampire army, so that they could get a chance to run away.

It had worked. Her friends were free. But now she was starting to lose hope for her self. She had been fighting for the last hour, and every single muscle in her body screamed of pain.

Adding to that, she had countless wounds all over the body. And the combined pain threatened to take away her last strength. She clenched her teeth and tried to block out the pain as she did a backwards flip, turned around and staked another vampire.

She had lost count of how many she had dusted. But they just kept coming. For the first time she staggered, and would have fallen if a huge vampire had not grabbed her collar. Just as he was about to bite her, she gave him a vicious forehead, and a knee in the groin. As he bent over in pain she staked him, and turned around as the last vampires gathered before her.

There had to be about twenty of them left. Salty tears rolled down her cheeks as she realised that all hope was out. This was it. She was never to see her friends again.

Sweet funny Xander, the one who always saw the light side of a situation. Xander, who stood by her side, no matter how many times she broke his heart.

Willow, the shy and easily scared computer genius, who, despite her fear, always did what she could to help. She perhaps, was the one of them with the greatest courage. Willow, her best female friend, the one that she could talk to about everything and nothing.

Oz, Willow's boyfriend, the quiet and level headed computer genius and Werewolf.

And even Cordelia. Never to hear her bitch about the rest of the teams bad taste in dressing. With an odd smirk Buffy thought: _ If she could only have seen me now, with my clothes hanging around me in shreds._

Then the picture of her mom came before her inner sight; sweet mom, who had had such trouble getting used to Buffy being The Slayer and Hank, her father, who didn't know.

And sweet, stuffy, tea drinking, ultra British, book loving Giles, her Watcher, who was more of a father to her than Hank.

NO! It couldn't end this way. There was too much to live for. She had to see them again! With a thrust of adrenaline bursting through her veins she attacked, ignoring the pain and dizziness. She had to make it.

Suddenly every vampire in the room stopped up.

"Enough! The Slayer is mine."

The vampires parted like the Dead Sea before Moses, and forward came Drusilla.

She started dancing around the slayer, humming insanely. "The stars are singing tonight slayer. And Miss Edith is pleased. She is pleased that she gets to even the score with Spike. Miss Edith is getting bored by Spike always bragging about the two Slayers he has killed, while Drusilla only had killed one. I have to make a big tea party for her to celebrate."

Her eyes seemed lost in a sea of confusion, as she giggled like a little girl. From a fold in her black dress, she took out a doll, witch she placed on an empty crate a few meters away.

"That's nice," she hummed. "Now Miss Edith can watch."

Then she stopped in front of Buffy. "Now Slayer, it's time to fight."

Suddenly the lost girlish insanity was replaced with the eyes of a cold-blooded killer, as she morphed into her vampiric visage. Surprisingly quick, she attacked, and continued to attack, with increasing speed and viciousness.

Buffy felt real fear creep into her soul, as she realised that there was more to Drusilla than her insanity. She was strong, incredibly strong; perhaps even stronger than Angelus. Buffy tried every trick she had ever been taught, and then some she just made up. But to no avail, it was almost as if she knew her every move.

_She must have been studying my fighting from a distance,_ Buffy thought as she caught a fist to the stomach that made her reel backward and stumble over the crate on witch Miss Edith sat.

"Naughty, naughty," Drusilla said in a madly shrieking voice. "You made Miss Edith fall on the dirty floor. Miss Edith is crying. Can't you hear it? She broke her foot!"

Her visage melted away, as bloodied tears ran down her face. "You made Miss Edith cry!" then her face became a cold mask of rage. "Now we will end this!"

Then the vampiress stopped right in front of her and Buffy let out a short sob of fear, as she saw Drusilla's eyes turn bright yellow with red sparks. "Look into my eyes," she started to chant in a singsong voice. "Look into my eyes, be in my eyes, be my eyes."

As she continued to chant those few words, Buffy found that she was incapable of moving. Suddenly, her head was invaded by images so lively; she knew the vampiress sent them just to torture her. She saw Kendra fight the vampires. She saw them step aside for Drusilla. She saw her using her hypnotic powers on the Jamaican Slayer. And she saw her slit her throat with a quick cut from her fingernails.

Buffy looked into those evil eyes, the eyes of a predator, and waited for death. She had survived Lothos, The Master, The Order of Teraka and Balthazar. She had survived being swallowed by the Bezoar. She had survived zombies and ghosts. Hell, she had even survived Angelus and Acathla. And now she would die at the hand of a crazy vampiress that was playing with dolls.

She waited for Drusilla to slit her throat. But instead, she leant down and bit into her jugular, rapidly draining her life force. The last thing Buffy registered was the pure and simple bliss on her killer's face, reflected in a piece of broken glass on the floor. Then everything went black. She didn't see the bliss turn into the most excruciating pain.

_End of chapter one_


	2. The Awakening

**(The awakening)**

**(The opposite of a lobotomy)**

Drusilla felt the triumph flow through her body. Making the taste of Slayer blood even sweeter. She could feel the blood flow through her veins and fill her with pure power. It was like nothing she had ever experienced. It felt as if every single molecule in her body were charged with power to the point of bursting. The eternal voices in her head quieted down until they were no more than a whisper. And then they left nothing more than a deafening silence. Everything became so clear. 

The stars stopped singing, and still the power continued to flow into her and drew away the fog that had been over her thoughts for as long as she could remember. She felt ready to conquer the world. Nothing or no one could stop her. She would be the undisputed queen of the undead. She felt an almost erotic pleasure by the thought of all the wonderful havoc she would wreak. 

Then suddenly her feet disappeared under her as a searing pain ran through her brain. 

"No!!!" She screamed, as she stumbled to her feet. Steadying to the wall, she started climbing the stairs. 

"Nooooo!!!!!!!" Something broke its way up from the very depths of her being. 

"NO, no, no!!" It couldn't be true. It couldn't be!!! But it was!!! The pain ripping her apart, far preceded what she thought to be possible. 

"No, No, NO, NO!!!" 

Through the pain, she realised what she had to do. What had to be done. She walked back to the still form of the Slayer. She was barely alive. Drusilla could hear her heartbeats getting weaker and more irregular by the second. She picked up the Slayer, walked past the shocked vampires and carried the Vampire Slayer out into the night.    

***************************************************************************

At the Sunnydale Hospital, the waiting room at the emergency were filled with a group of very concerned people. 

Pacing back and forth was the Slayers mother, seemingly on the verge of going postal in her concern for her daughter.

Sitting in a chair by the corridor was Giles. Badly bruised and with traces of blood on his now wrinkled and torn tweed suit. 

Xander sat at his right, looking as dishevelled as the Watcher. And his left hand was bandaged after a knife cut. 

Willow sat in a corner with her boyfriend. The right side of her face was swollen and already beginning to turn blue. Almost black. Her dress was torn and bloodstained there she sat curled together on Oz's lap. 

Oz had a bandage on his forehead. Covering six stitches. And his nose was bloodied and swollen. 

In another corner Cordelia sat. Her beautiful face was bruised and blackened. And blood seeped from a bandage at the back of her head. 

But none of them cared about their injuries. 

The only thing on their mind was Buffy. They were at the hospital getting their injuries taken care of. When suddenly there were doctors and nurses running left and right, as Buffy were brought in. Badly battered and bruised, and still bleeding from twin puncture marks on her neck. Shortly after, Joyce had arrived, and they had all settled down in the waiting room. 

That was over an hour ago. And now Joyce was about to go nuts. Here they were worrying their minds out, and not a single nurse would tell them what happened. 

She saw a doctor hasting down the corridor towards the room where her daughter was. She stepped over to him, and asked how Buffy was. But he quite rudely told her off. 

"I don't have time for this. Can't you see I'm busy"? 

She grabbed him and slammed him against the wall. "No, I want some answers. I have been waiting for an hour. But none of you are telling me anything. How is my daughter? Tell me or by God, I wont be responsible for what I do."

"Chill out woman," he snorted as he tried to push her aside. 

"I don't have time for this. Now let me go so that I can do my job." 

Joyce lifted her hand to punch him straight in the face. But Giles caught her fist. The doctor tore himself loose and hasted down the corridor, muttering: "Crazy bitch." 

"Oh God!" Joyce cried against Giles shoulder. "How can people like that work at a hospital." 

"I don't know Joyce. It has to be the work of the Hellmouth." 

She nodded. "I want so badly to beat the crap out of him. Here I am worrying myself sick, and he is directly rude." 

"Yes. I know what you mean," Giles said. Barely keeping the Ripper within at bay. "I'm willing to bet my last dollar that he is related to that wretched ugly toad Snyder. People like that shouldn't be aloud to walk freely around. Now come here." 

He led her to a chair and sat down by her side. Comforting her as best as he could. But he was just as worried as she. To him, Buffy was like the daughter he never had.

A few minutes later an Asian looking nurse came in. "Which one of you is Joyce Summers?" 

Before she could take another breath the blonde woman in her late thirties, forced her up against the wall. The nurse found herself surrounded by the others. 

"How is she? Please tell me she is going to be well." 

"Well, actually, yes, she is – but to say it frankly, she shouldn't. She should be dead. By God!! She should be long time dead!" 

The Nurse stopped for a moment. Seeming almost in shock. Then she continued. 

"The amount of blood left in her system wasn't enough to feed a mosquito. Luckily she had stashed some of her own blood at the blood bank from earlier. If she hadn't, we couldn't have helped her. 'Cause her blood type is like nothing we have ever encountered." 

"We haven't had time to study it thoroughly, but what we have found so far is an extreme capacity for oxygen transportation, and a very quick coagulation. And it's probably that oxygen transportation thing that is saving her. We gave her all the blood we had. But still none of the doctors at this hospital have seen or heard of anyone that have survived half the blood loss she is suffering at the moment." 

"Lady! If your daughter is practising some sort of belief, then please tell me. 'Cause it works. By God it works!!! Not only is she out of the woods. She is conscious and asking for you." She stopped to draw her breath, and was suddenly left alone in the room, as the rest of them raced out in the corridor. 

As they entered Buffy's room, they were shocked to see how she looked. She was almost as pale as a vampire, and her lips were blue. Her eyes lay deep in her head and were surrounded by dark rings. And every part of skin they could see was covered with cuts and bruises. She opened her eyes as they came inn. 

"Hello guys, mom, Giles. Nice of you to visit." 

Her voice was weak and hoarse, and completed the image. If anyone looked like a living dead, it had to be her, Giles thought. 

She hugged them in turn, as tears ran down her cheeks, tears of joy. She never thought she would see anyone of them again. 

"What happened," Giles asked. "How did you manage to get out of there? 

"That's it, O supreme Watcher of mine. I didn't," she said with a faint try for a smile. 

"The last I remember, was fighting Drusilla, and loosing badly. She is much stronger than we ever thought, maybe even stronger than Angelus. She pulled this hypnotic act on me, and suddenly I couldn't move. And into my mind came pictures. Pictures she sent there. I saw the fight between Kendra and Drusilla. I saw when Drusilla slit her throat. And then she bit me. The very last I registered were the immense sadistic pleasure on her face as she drained me. After that, my guess is as good as anyone's. The only thing that I know is that someone brought me here. But no one seems to know who it was. I should really like to know, cause that person saved my life." with that said, she fell back against the pillows, sleeping with a little smile on her lips. Like a child that felt safe.

End of chapter two 


	3. Return To Humanity

**(Pain and guilt)**

**(The return of humanity)******

The dark clad figure hasted away from the hospital, oblivious to everyone and everything. A person that saw her would probably draw the conclusion that she was drunk, from her unsteady walk. But the wobbling didn't come from a fog of alcohol. It came from the tears that clouded her sight. 

As countless memories of past crimes assaulted Drusilla, she felt like screaming and never stop. How could she? Old people, young people, children, disabled. She had killed all kinds of people, without a shred of conscience. How could it happen? How could she have become what she hated the most? 

The answer came to her like a punch to the stomach. And she threw up what little of Buffy's blood that hadn't been taken up in her own bloodstream yet. 

The memories of Angelus's games with her, how he had forced her to watch her entire family die, his continuing torture of her and everyone that had ever meant anything to her, him screwing with her mind, and raping her body, again and again. 

And there was nothing she could do to prevent it. He had on purpose taken her sanity. Knowing that was the only way he could ever turn her. And she knew what had happened now. 

The massive amount of Slayer blood had given her the strength to break the bonds of insanity. And therefore her soul had returned, to be the source of her pain. Now she was truly cursed. Even though no one had cursed her. 

She thought of Angel. How could he have lived with all this pain, this mind shattering pain? A pain so intense it threatened with driving her insane again, but not this time. She held onto her sanity with all the might she had. How did Angel manage it? 

"Dear God! Help me!" she cried to the heavens. "How am I supposed to go on?" 

She leant against a wall, as deep sobs wracked her body while the memories from what happened in Prague plagued her. All the hideous crimes she had done before she was injured after a fight with a team of demon hunters. God bless them. They had nearly managed to kill both her and Spike. 

Dear William, sweet innocent loving William, she remembered it as if it was yesterday. How it was to watch Angelus torture him close to death, before he turned him. Will never realised the consequences of his fear of death. When he woke up, he was no longer William, her dear boyfriend. He had become one of the cruellest demons in the world, William the Bloody. The one that later would be called Spike, because of his obsessive fondness of railroad spikes. 

For some reason he had kept his capability to love her as did she towards him. But now their love had become something twisted. Something evil. Deeply perverted, as they became the undead world's Bonnie and Clyde.

 And now her soul was back. And to her great despair, she found that she still loved him. In some strange way, she still loved him. And at the same time she hated the demon. She knew that they were two entirely different entities. But she also knew without hesitation that the demon loved her too. And she couldn't stand the thought of it. 

But worst of everything was what her thoughts always came back to: the guilt. Guilt beyond imagination for what she had done. And two faces kept coming back before her eyes in between all the others. Kendra's fear stricken eyes as she slit her throat, and the same expression in Buffy's as she had her life force drained out of her. 

As the night went on she continued to walk without purpose or direction. She just kept on walking, in a subconscious way trying to run from the memories. But of course it didn't work. 

As she sensed the first omens of the sun in the air, she had reached the park. And she knew what she had to do. She turned against where the sun would come up, and waited. Only to find that the rays of sun did nothing but warming her body that was shivering of coldness after the night. 

And as she stood there, she could feel the unmistakable thuds of her own heartbeats. Not only had her soul returned, but her life and humanity too. 

She fell to the ground shivering from coldness, in body and soul. Crying in deep violent sobs. How long she lay there, she didn't know. But gradually the sun grew stronger and surrounded her with warmth. Oddly soothing warmth. Finally the sobs stopped and she rose to her feet. 

Get a grip, she tried to tell herself. You got to get your act together. And not act like a depressed child. If Angel could deal with all the heinous acts of Angelus, you surely should be able to deal with your far fewer. 

She wiped away her tears as a plan started to form in her head. She started walking back to the lair. She had to get going. Don't think, just act. Don't think, or you won't be able to continue. Back at the lair she took with her all the money and everything of value she could find. 

Luckily Spike was not there. He had been much away in the last few weeks. She didn't know why. But she feared he was up to something big. She laid all the things in the back trunk of the car, got behind the wheel. And left for LA. 

The first thing she did as she arrived the City of Angels, was to get some new clothes. 

She was quite shocked about what women dressed in these days. She knew everything had changed, but this much? Some of the dresses she saw were almost non-existent. The colours were so bright. And the clothes clung to the body in a way that would have been considered more than indecent in her days. 

But in a way she really liked the fashion of today. It was just so different for a woman that had been used to wear black full covering dresses for a hundred years. 

Finally after visiting God alone knew how many shops, she finally ended up with a pair of black suede leather pants and a simple white shirt. At the same shop she bought some other clothes, and then left for a hairdresser. 

An hour later she looked at herself in a mirror for the first time in a hundred years. And what she saw pleased her. Looking back at her was a beautiful redhead that radiated strength and determination. And most of all someone who knew what she was doing. 

A complete turn from the insane vampiress she was last night. 

Then she got herself an apartment. Not a very nice one, but at least she had someplace to stay. By this time she was very tired, and was starting to feel kind of sick to her stomach. She stopped up and massaged her tummy as it made strange noises. Then she suddenly realised what it was. It was hunger. Food hunger. A feeling she had never expected to feel again. 

She went to a café and got some food. As she sat in a corner and marvelled over the taste of food, the simple truth hit her. She was now truly human, in every aspect. Well, apart from her powers. They were far beyond human, even more now than when she was a vampire. 

A quiet sob forced its way up her throat, as her steel hard self-control shattered into a thousand pieces. She was lonely, and miserable. She was the only one of her kind in the whole world. 

She was the only one of her kind that had ever been turned. And now she was back, immensely stronger than before. 

But no power in the universe could make up for her past crimes. And she knew it. She didn't deserve forgiveness. She didn't deserve to live. 

After a while she got a hold of her self, and continued to eat her now almost cold dinner.

Afterwards, she walked around in the streets for hours. As the city was swept in the dark cape of the night, she was still walking. Periodically crying. She was entering a back alley, when she suddenly felt the old pain in her stomach. And seconds later she heard a scream. 

Drusilla started to run as fast as she could. And as she rounded a corner she saw a vampire lean in for the bite on a young man. "Hey! Let the guy be, and try someone your own size," she growled. She bent down and picked up a piece of broken plank. The vampire let his victim run away, and walked towards her. 

"Who are you to interfere in my hunt?" he said, full game face on. 

"I am your worst nightmare." She said. 

She released a roundhouse kick that sent him into a wall. So hard, cracks appeared in the wall around him. Before he could get back on his feet, she bent over him. And as she forced the sharp piece of wood through his hart, she felt the old power rush running through her veins. Like a long forgotten, but dear melody. 

And finally she knew how to go on. She should have known instantly. After all Angel had shown the way. 

It was time for her to take her destiny back. As she walked back to her apartment, for the first time since her resurrection she felt some amount of inner peace. She had found a reason to go on. 

That night she went on the hunt for the first time since her soul returned, but not to drain some innocent victim of its blood. No. Now it was time for her to again take up her sacred duty. 

She found that she still possessed all her vampiric powers, in tenfold. And on top of the powers of her kind, it made her virtually unstoppable. 

And her magic powers were equally stronger since her brain no longer was clouded by insanity. 

As she went to bed that night she was tired, and her muscles ached after being pushed to the limits for the first time in a very long time. She fell asleep almost instantly after laying her head on the pillow. She slept like a child, almost half the night before the nightmares started. 

And she got out of her bed. Pacing the floor, as memories from the past caught up with her. Setting the standard for her nights for as far into the future she could see.  

The end of chapter three


	4. Never,ever, threaten the wife of a scott...

**(Getting back in the saddle)**

**(Never threaten the wife of a Scottish swordsman)**

Two weeks later 

Buffy wriggled her feet impatiently; knocking them against the gravestone she was sitting on, the grave of one Gus Himler.

She had now waited half the night for him to rise. "Come on Gus," she growled. "I don't have all night. I am cold and miserable, and just want to go home to my comfortable and warm bed." She jumped down from the gravestone and stamped her feet on the ground in sheer frustration. 

Bad move!! Suddenly the grave exploded open and Gus released a right hook that sent her toppling over the gravestone. "Ouch! That hurt!" She muttered as she tried to retrieve the breath that had been knocked out of her. 

With a gasp, oxygen came back into her system, and she forced herself on her feet. She turned around and just barely blocked a punch that would have crushed her windpipe. God! This guy was strong. She thought as she narrowly ducked a spin kick. 

She lifted her stake and tried to side-step one of his attacks and then stab him. But with a quick move he kicked the stake away from her. She reached for her second stake, but found that she had lost it as she went over the gravestone. And now it was out of reach. She tried to feint. But he kicked the legs from under her. Seconds later inhumanly strong hands squeezed around her throat. 

Desperately she tried to kick him in the groin, but the bastard just kept squeezing. He didn't even grunt. As the world began to blur, Buffy frantically searched for anything she could use as a weapon. And as everything was turning black, her left hand found a broken tree branch. She grabbed it, and stabbed with what little strength she had left. 

As a shower of dust fell over her, the pressure against her throat stopped. She sat up against the gravestone, fighting to breathe. Several minutes later her heart was still racing, but at least she could breathe. This one was close, too close. This wasn't working. She was still too weak. 

Even a newly risen fledgling was more than enough for the mighty Buffy, slayer of some of the most powerful vampires in the world. 

She needed help she realised. Until her full strength was back she was going to need lots of help. 

She stumbled to her feet and went back to Sunnydale Highs library. 

As she came through the swing doors, she could sense a faint vampire existence in the room. She looked over to the table and saw Giles discuss something with a man that seemed to be in his fifties. 

She saw that they were about to end the conversation. The man gave a mock salute to Giles, and walked past her. As he did, he took of his hat. "Greetings Slayer. Good health to you," he said and bowed in an old fashioned way. Then he disappeared out the door.

"You do know that man is less than human, Giles?" She sat down on a chair in front of him. 

"Yes I know," Giles said. He started cleaning his glasses, while a worried wrinkle appeared on his forehead. 

"Then who and what is he," she asked. 

"He is one of a few half vampires that are working for the council. They are the perfect choice for an undercover agent. They can appear completely vampire. But they don't posses the soulless evil. And either they don't have the craving for blood, or they can control it.

Well. His name is Barton Deville. And he just came from LA. He got some interesting news. A warrior sorceress of the First Circle of Hell is coming to Sunnydale. She intends to create a new Hellmouth in an old mansion at the outskirts of town. 

That again will open the Hellmouth here in the library.  Two Hellmouths as close as that will start growing until they become one. And the result is one giant Hellmouth, that because of its size is virtually impossible to close  

But it seems that she has been having a little problem. An old acquaintance of ours did what he could to stop her. Spike was true to his words to you, about not wanting the world to be destroyed. 

But then about two weeks ago, something changed. And now they are working together. Drusilla has disappeared, and he seems to have lost all interest of the rest of the world. So we better prepare for the fight against this warrior sorceress. 

Barton also had some other news. There is fear in the vampire society in LA. Someone or something immensely powerful, is hunting down and killing vampires with apparent ease. 

This creature appears to be female, and seems to be able to blend completely into the shadows. The few victims that gets away, say they never knew anything was wrong before they were attacked. And just before their companions suffered a brutally quick death, a singsong voice seemed to come out of the shadows saying: "I am the voice of vengeance. Vengeance is mine". Then this dark clad figure comes out of the shadows, and in seconds kills all vampires, except for one or two. Deliberately left alive to spread the word." 

The Slayer and Watcher were silent for a while. Then Buffy shook herself out of her thoughts. "Giles, I know this causes reason to worry. But I am afraid we have other things to worry about. Tonight I tried to go slaying. And the keyword here is tried." Then she told her Watcher about the fight on the graveyard.    

**************************************************************

Tessa was sitting behind the counter. Looking through the background information on the latest artefacts they had achieved, after they moved the business to LA. The clock was nine, and they were still waiting for the day's first customer. 

She was just finished going through the info, when the bell rang and a beautiful redhead came in. She moved with the powerful grace she had come to know so well, since she met Duncan. 

NO! Not again!! Tessa thought. 

Another one that had come for Duncan's head. I wont allow it, she thought to herself. She grabbed a black Katana with no ornaments from a show case, and walked over to the woman that surprisingly enough, wasn't studying the sword collection. She had walked over to a show case with a collection of knives and daggers. 

Tessa hid the sword behind her back and stepped over to the redhead. 

"What can I help with," she said as she forced herself to smile. 

The woman looked up with eyes full of sorrow. 

"I'm looking for a job. And since old weapons are kind of my speciality, I thought you maybe could use my help." 

She released an odd smirk, as she pointed behind Tessa's back. "I don't know why you are holding a sword behind your back, but I can assure you. You won't need to use it." 

Feeling silly, Tessa brought the sword out from behind her. 

"You say I wont have to use it," she said as she lowered it to the floor. "But be assured, I'm fully capable of using one of these. I know how to kill one of your kind.  And if you try in any way to harm Duncan, I will personally behead you." 

Before she could react the redhead's hand shot out and grabbed the sword away from her. "Duncan who?" the woman asked. But suddenly her back tensed, and she turned towards the door leading to the Dojo. Just in time to block a vicious cut from a magnificent Katana. 

"Well," she said. "I guess that answered that. You have to be Duncan. Your assistant is quite protective of you," she said as she apparently with great ease blocked and parried the Scotsman's strokes. 

"Duncan stop!," Tessa said, but to no use. The Highlanders eyes glinted with the full of his Celtic temper. 

"Nobody hurts my wife, and gets away with it, if you wanted a fight, why didn't you just challenge me in the old-fashioned way? Instead of going after somebody that's not even a part of the game." 

This guy is good, Drusilla thought as she focused her mind on the battle. It's like he and the sword are two parts of a whole. She opened the full of her senses, and could feel the exceptionally strong life force in him. 

"Who are you," she said, as she had to tap into her vampiric strength to keep him from knocking the sword out of her hands. Duncan spun around and knocked her on the head with the hilt of the sword. To his surprise she just shook her head and seemed to grow stronger as she released a stroke that almost knocked the sword out of his hands. 

"I am Duncan Macloud of the Clan Macloud," he growled as he somersaulted away from the tip of her sword. "And who are you." Amazingly she smiled back at him. 

"I am Drusilla of the gypsy clan Calderash. I am the Voice of Vengeance. Vengeance is mine. And I am more than you can take." 

With that she started an attack that was like nothing he had ever experienced. Duncan had four hundred years of experience and a very well trained body to draw on. And he was considered one of the best by his own kind. But still he found that she seemed to be in an entirely different league. He came to think of the old samurai motto. 

****

_Seek the spirit of the water._

_The water is soothing yet deadly_

The water is soft yet powerful 

_It gives away instead of breaking_

This woman moved like the water, smoothly, always in motion. She moved like a predator, yet he sensed a sharp and complex intelligence behind those eyes which were like black depths of sorrow. 

This could very easily be the most deadly opponent he had ever met. Her quickening felt strange, incredibly powerful, as if she was thousands of years old. Almost as strong as Cassandra's, but something was wrong. She felt like an Immortal, yet she didn't. 

He parried a stroke to the midsection and kicked her in the stomach as hard as he could. She fell to the floor, and he moved to finish it. But before he could take one step, she was back on her feet. And her eyes were suddenly glowing bright yellow. 

"My God," he yelled. "What are you? You are not immortal are you?" 

"No" she said, as she seemed to levitate towards him. "I may be over a hundred years old. But I am not one of the Eternal Warriors," she said as she almost broke his hand with a kick that sent his sword flying away. 

Then she brought the hilt of her sword thundering down on his head. Making him fall to the ground. She lifted her sword and brought it swiftly towards his neck. The blade stopped a mere millimetre from his neck. 

"Bang! You are dead," she said as she blew at the top of her finger. Like it was a gun. Then she reached down and yanked him back on his feet, and gave him back both swords. 

"I didn't come here to fight for the bullshit prize. I simply came here to ask for a job, and your wife threatened me with a sword. I don't like that, so I took it away. 

And then you came. Well, I guess I blew my job application. Sorry about the headache. But as the stubborn Highlander you are, you were completely taken by the battle rage. The only way to stop you was to wipe the floor with you. 

Again I'm sorry about the whole thing. And you wont have to worry about seeing me again. Bye." She turned to go, but stopped as Tessa grabbed her shoulder. 

"I think you owe us an explanation. Who are you really? And not to be rude or anything, what are you?" 

Drusilla turned and sat down on a chair by the counter. 

"My name, as I said earlier, is Drusilla of the gypsy clan Calderash. And I am part Vampire, part Vampire Slayer." 

She let out a long sigh. Then she started to speak. Half an hour later, she ended the story of her life. "So that's who I am." 

"Well, I think that this is, without doubt, the strangest story I have ever heard," Duncan said after a while. "And the worst of it is, I believe it. I have met Slayers, Vampires and Witches before. But this is the first time I have met all three in one person. No wonder you are so strong. 

OK, now that we know who and what each of us are, I think its time to get to business." He walked behind the counter and started to look through some papers. After a while he looked up at her again. 

"I just have to re-establish your identity officially. That will take me about one day. And you need to get a bank account. So I'll figure you can start working in about two days. Do Antiques Specialist and Martial Art instructor sound okay?" 

Drusilla barely could believe what she heard. She could only nod. This was exactly what she needed. She nodded again. "Yes," she said. "It sounds perfect." 

"Well then," Mr and Mrs Macloud said. "Welcome to Duncan's Antiques Shop and Dojo."

She looked at them both. "Thank you very much. You don't know how much this means to me. But why do you hire someone like me?" 

Duncan looked her straight in the eyes. And his eyes were suddenly dark with sorrow. "Because I know how it is to have been ridden by a demon. Ever heard about a demon called Ahriman?" 

Her head snapped up. "Ahriman! The Millennium demon?" 

"Yes," he nodded. 

She was in awe. "You are the Champion. The one in this millennia chosen to battle Ahriman. And you obviously won!" Her voice was shivering from respect. 

"Yes I did," he mumbled. "But not before his madness made me kill one of my students and dearest friends. Therefore I can, at least partly, understand what you are going through now. And I admire your courage and strength. I had friends that helped me through the first weeks, while you had to deal with the guilt on your own. And on top of that, in an unfamiliar century.

You have proven your self when it comes to Martial Arts and swordplay. And since you are the Slayer, I can only imagine your knowledge of ancient weapons. This and the fact that we are quite understaffed, are the reasons I hire you. Now go and get that bank account ready. The sooner you can start, the better." 

"Aye aye, sir," she said and walked out into the lovely sunlight. 

***************************************************************************

Thrust! Parry! Parry! Duck! Parry! Thrust! Thud! Parry! Crack! Slap!! Sweep!!! 

"OUCH!!!" Buffy yelped as she stumbled backwards. 

"Damn it!! I feel so bloody useless," she shouted as she threw her quarterstaff away. She massaged a sore shoulder. 

"Normally I would be capable of wiping the floor with you. And look at me now. It's the other way around. I'm bloody useless!!! How am I supposed to kill vampires when I'm not even capable of protecting myself against you? No offence, Giles, but you are middle-aged."  

"None taken," he said as he handed her an icepack for her shoulder. "Now, don't fall into despair. I actually think you are making good progress. We have now been training for two hours straight. You have gone through the whole weight-training program with weights that for the first time were clearly above what could be expected for a woman your size. You took twenty-five push-ups, and fifty sit-ups. 

Last week you collapsed after an hour of light training. With this speed you will be back at full strength within another week." 

"I know," she said. "But it isn't soon enough. In the mean time, Cathla The Warrior Sorceress can wreak havoc as she want. Not to mention Spike who has gone on a killing spree not seen the likes of since The Harvest. 

And Sunnydale is about to drown in vampires, demons and other assorted nasties. Bloody hell!! On the way here, I sensed fifteen vampires and had to run from a Mora demon and a hellhound.

And last night Oz was in this major dogfight with three other werewolves. We have to do something!!!" 

"I know that," he said as he started to tidy up after the training session. He looked at the frustrated Slayer. "We are doing all that we can, Buffy. Every night we are out there. Trying to halt the increase in the powers of the Forces of Darkness. 

And every evening, before we go out, we spend hours here researching. I don't know what else we could do. Now that you don't have your Slayer strength, and Angel is gone. The only one of us that got some kind of supernatural power is Willow. And those powers are not physical. 

If I release the Ripper within I get an increase in power, but barely enough to make up for the strength taken away from me by age. We just have to pray for a miracle. And both of us know that miracles do happen. After all you came back from the dead. And still you cheated death again just two weeks ago. 

You have prevented Armageddon more times than I like to think of. We all have. So don't give up. We will find something. In some way, I'm sure we are going to stop her. We just have to focus on our work, and never give up, because that's one of the things that separate men from animals. We keep fighting even though it seems futile. And surprisingly often, in the end we prevail. 

Now let us take a trip out and se how the others are doing." Buffy looked at her beloved Watcher. Sweet, stuffy, British, bookworm Giles. How did he do it? Somehow he always managed to say the right thing. Give her that extra little spunk that she needed to go on. 

She realised that he was more than a Watcher to her. Much more. In more than one way he was like a father to her, more than her biological father ever had been. Hank had never understood her like Giles did. Not that he ever could, as long as he didn't know about her secret life. But he didn't even try to understand her when it came to ordinary things, like taste of clothes, friends, and plans for the future. 

Not that he didn't love her, because she knew that he did, but sometimes she wondered if he wasn't a bit disappointed that his only child wasn't a boy. He should only know that his little daughter could beat the crap out of any man, she thought with a smirk. 

"Yeah, lets go," she said to Giles. "I wonder how many times Xander has been knocked on his ass tonight? Poor guy. He has sort of elected himself as protector of the rest of us. And I must say Giles, he is doing a surprisingly good job at it. He has gotten much better. But still I think it would be a good idea if you started training him too. Did you see how stiffly he moved last night, when we came back from the patrol. 

When he changed the T-shirt that hellhound tore to shreds, I saw why. His whole upper body was covered with so many blue marks, cuts and bruises that I felt like crying. And still he managed to keep our spirits up with that geeky humour of his." With a sudden move she grabbed the bag of slaying tools, and followed Giles out in the night. Driven by worry for her best friend.           

_End of Chapter four_


	5. Meeting The Council Of Elders

**( Splitting headaches)**

**(How do you break someone out of Hell?)**

Drusilla dragged herself up the stairs to her apartment. It was three in the night, and she was absolutely trashed. Tonight she had killed twenty vampires, and one chaos demon. And as if that wasn't enough, a sword-wielding idiot that took her for an Immortal attacked her. 

Man!! Is every Immortal going to be just as stubborn? Eventually she had been forced to knock him flat out on the ground and take away his sword. A little devil had risen in her, and she had chanted the sword down into the asphalt besides his head. Hell would freeze over before he managed to get it out of the asphalt and back. 

But now she was absolutely exhausted. She opened the door and staggered into the bedroom. There she fell asleep almost before she could place her head on the pillow. But the sleep didn't last long before the old and familiar pain in her head told of an oncoming vision. 

And what she saw was one of the worst visions she had ever had. She saw Angel in Hell. And she knew instantly that it was Angel, not Angelus. Somehow his soul was back, and in great torment. 

The vision changed and she saw the last fight between Buffy and Angelus. And suddenly she saw a snapshot of Willow. Sitting in a hospital bed. Chanting in ancient Romanic. The picture changed back to Buffy and Angelus. And just as she saw the mouth of Achatla open, Angelus's eyes flashed golden for a second, and he staggered towards Buffy. Utterly confused. 

The curse had been replaced, and Angel was back. But now there was no way back, in order to save the world Buffy had to kill Angel and shove him through the vortex. So that's the reason she ran away for months, Drusilla thought. It was a miracle she ever came back. She had to be even stronger than the ex-vampire had thought. 

This was so wrong. She didn't deserve to go through such a terrible thing. And Angel. He didn't deserve to be in hell. Angelus yes, but not Angel! And she felt a destiny broken, as she realised he was meant to be one of the greatest warriors of the light, fighting besides his beloved Buffy. 

This was all wrong! Something had to be done. But what could she do? She pondered that for a long time, until a plan formed. A plan so outrageously insane that she first pushed it aside. It was impossible. But then she started thinking. What if it worked? And the more she thought of it, the more it appealed to her. And as she drifted of to sleep, the decision was made. She would do it!

***************************************************************************

Next morning she packed, and started her journey towards Bucharest, Capitol of Romania. It was time for a visit to the Highest Council of Elders. 

She nearly missed her flight, when she got lost at the airport. Never had she thought that it would be so big. But thanks to a nice man in his fifties, she reached the plain at the last minute. 

It was with quite an effort she forced herself onboard. To fly fifteen thousand feet above ground scared the living shit out of her. Man! People nowadays are crazy, she thought as she settled down in a seat by the window. 

In spite of her fear, she was curious too. But right now, fear was the one that ruled. She could feel the plain move slowly, for so to pick up speed, until the landscape around became blurry. And she could feel the whole aeroplane shiver underneath her. 

"Jeeeesus Chriiist!!" She yelped as the plane took of. Receiving odd looks from the other passengers. "Oh holly mackerel!" she nearly shouted as she looked out, and saw the landscape far underneath them. And then with a voice filled with awe: "God bless the Wright brothers." 

"Yes, I'm with you on that one." The passenger besides her said. 

She turned towards him. It was the nice man from the Airport. 

"Sorry about my outbursts," she said with a sheepish grin. "Its my first time on a plane."   

"I sort of figured that," he said. "Nothing is like the first time. Sadly the experience starts to get uninteresting after that. Until it just is another means of transportation." 

"Somehow I doubt that," she said and peered out the window again. Astonished she saw the plain pass through a thin layer of clouds. Then even higher, until they looked like small fluffy balls of cotton, and unbelievable far beneath that again, she could see the ocean. Or she figured it had to be the ocean, because of the bright blue colour. It looked just like a never-ending blue flat surface. 

She shook her head and sat back, and half wondered if she still were on the same planet she was born on. And totally overwhelmed by everything, she fell asleep. 

After a long travel, and after changing plane in London, she finally reached Bucharest. Now she had to find the Council, witch wasn't easy. She hadn't a clue to where they were, and she was only _almost_ certain that they still existed. 

But finally she found a lead. After visiting God knew how many churches, and looking through endless protocols she found proof that the Council still existed. And she found references to a catholic priest, Father Benedict, who knew of their whereabouts. 

It was just one thing. The church where he was a priest was the one that held some of her most painful memories. The Saint Marcus Church, the same church in which Angelus had chosen to change her. As she walked up the church floor the memories made her want to run screaming away. Everything flashed before her eyes. Every single detail, Angelus chasing her through most of Europe, for then to end up in Saint Marcus church, Angelus dragging her as close to the Altar as he could bear, before sinking his teeth into her neck. 

And on the exact same spot, she now saw an elder man kneeling before the Altar. For a moment her fear made her turn and begin to walk back out. But then she saw for her inner sight what torments Angel was going through. And she knew that she had to follow through with her plan. 

She took a deep breath before she walked up to the priest. "Father Benedict?" 

The elder man looked up from his prayer, and looked at her with stunningly green eyes. "Yes my child. What can I do for you?" Drusilla helped him as he rose to his feet with difficulty, and they walked out of the church. 

"I understood it so that you may would be able to help me," she said as they sat down on a bench on the sunny side of the church. "I need to contact the Highest Council of the Gypsy Elders." 

As she spoke the words, she saw his back stiffen. And he suddenly became cautious. "It has been many years since last I lead an outsider to the Council. Why do you wish to speak to the council, and with what right do you seek to contact them." 

"I wish to speak to them about a great wrong they have been doing for a hundred years. And it is my birthright as a seer of the gypsy clan Calderash." 

He looked at her with sharp eyes. "You say you are a seer of the gypsy clan Calderash? But their last seer died a hundred years ago." 

"Yes I know, Father." 

"But then, how could you be a seer," the old priest asked. 

She sighed. "Because I am that seer. I am Drusilla of the gypsy clan Calderash, The twice gifted, seer and slayer. Turned Vampire, and gone insane. I am back, back amongst the living. As it stand written in the prophecy codex." 

_'From the blood of the strongest,_

_The twice gifted will resurface._

_And she will once again take up her destiny.'_

"So Father Benedict. Please take me to the Council, so that I can fulfil my destiny." 

The old priest didn't say anything. He just raised, and started to walk back into the church. He walked up to a sculpture of the Madonna with the child Jesus. He pressed a hidden button in her hand, and the whole sculpture swung aside. Revealing a hole in the floor. 

"Walk down the stairs, and you will find the Council. God have mercy on your soul," he said and walked away. 

For a few moments she stood there, grief-stricken by his animosity. Then she got a hold of her self and walked down hearing the sculpture slide back in place behind her. She walked down the steps in total blackness. The only thing preventing her from falling was her vampiric night vision. 

At the bottom of the stairs she stopped before a massive oak door feeling a tremendous power of magic behind it. Then she drew her breath, and stepped inside. With that she suddenly found herself standing inside a half circle of wooden pillars. On each pillar an Orb of Thesula laid on a black velvet pillow glowing brightly. 

The floor was covered with beautiful Persian carpets, with strange magic symbols woven into them. The same type of carpets covered the walls too. Five old people sat behind a table in front of the half circle, and Drusilla was awed by the sheer power they radiated. 

"Most honourable Masters of Wisdom. I have come to seek your help to stop She knelt before them, and greeted them in the traditional way of her clan. She touched her forehead with two fingers, lowered them towards the ground and then to her heart. 

a wrong that has been going on for a hundred years." 

"What is it that you need our help with, child of Calderash," an old woman with long silver shining hair said. 

Drusilla rose to her feet, and stated with strong voice. "I have come to beg you to stop my clan's act of vengeance towards the souled Angelus. And I also ask for access to the ancient Gypsy magic. I ask this not for myself but for the good of mankind." 

Drusilla bowed her head and waited for the Council's reply. And felt a surge of fury as all five of them erupted into a violent mock laughter. 

"Who do you think you are to ask us of anything, least of anything this, to stop the Calderash clan's rightful act of vengeance towards the vampire formerly known as the Scourge of Europe? The most vicious vampire known to mankind, counting the Master." 

"Who are you to dare question their holly right and duty of vengeance?" 

Drusilla felt rage bubbling up within her, and for a second her face contorted into her vampire visage. 

"I am Drusilla the seer of the Calderash clan. The Woman Angelus tortured, raped, killed and turned! And I demand that you stop my clan's vendetta towards the souled Angelus. It is about time they understood that they are letting the soul suffer for something the demon is guilty of. The demon Angelus and the souled Angelus that calls himself Angel, are two different entities. You should stop punishing the soul and start punishing the demon. 

I demand that you give me access to the ancient scriptures because I have seen the true destiny of the souled Angelus. He is to be one of the two great ones. He is meant to fight for the good of mankind besides his beloved slayer. And it's far past time that we eliminated all the loopholes in the curse, and give him as much peace of mind as he can take." 

The room became silent as the grave. And she could almost hear their minds working at top speed. And she sensed them communicating with each other telepathically. Then the woman with silver hair(obviously their leader) rose. 

"We understand what you are saying, and agree that a great wrong has been done. And we would have stopped the vendetta towards Angelus, the souled one, and secured his soul, but as you know, that would all be in vain, because of the fact that he is in hell. Furthermore, the fact is, no Gypsy today has neither the power nor the knowledge to retrieve a person from hell." 

"Let me worry about that," Drusilla said, and let witch fire sparkle over her fingertips. "I posses the power, so let's make a deal. You give me access to the ancient Gypsy magic, and you make Angels soul permanent, if I get him out of Hell."

The Council communicated telepathically amongst each other for a while, and she sensed the discussion was heated. Then the leader of the Council raised her voice. 

"Not since the days of the legendary seer Cassandra has anyone tried to retrieve a soul, much less a person from hell. If you can pass the wards set out by Cassandra, three millennia ago, then we will give you access to the magic library. As a show of our regret of the way we have dealt with Angelus, we will immediately start the process of securing his soul." The silver haired woman lifted a hand and the two pillars in front sank into the floor. 

"Follow me and I'll lead you on your way." 

Drusilla was lead into another room, in which she saw a silver door. "Here I will leave you. You are to go through that door," the Council-leader said. "Good luck to you. And I can see now why our chronicles speak of you as the most promising one since Cassandra. 

I can feel your power. It would have been quite frightening, if it weren't for your strong connection to the Powers That Be. Welcome back Sister." With that she walked back to the main room, where Drusilla already could hear chanting. Slowly Drusilla walked up to the silver door, and hesitated. She could see an almost erased writing on the door. In Ancient Romanic, it said:

**_Walk past this door with profit in mind,_**

****

**_And be forever cursed with poverty._**

****

Then she opened the door and revealed a staircase, which went even further down than she already were. She drew her breath and walked down into the darkness. Darkness? Not quite. A weak phosphorescent light seemed to come from the cold stonewalls and become stronger as she walked down. Then she again stood before a door in massive silver. And again it had an inscription. 

**_Walk past this door with demon blood_**

****

And perish in flames from the pits of hell 

****

Drusilla felt her heart race, and her mind threatened to panic. How could she ever pass this ward? It was impossible. But then she again got a vision of the torments both Angel and Buffy were going through. And besides, she owed Buffy far more than her own life. Determent again, she grabbed the door handle and stepped inside. And she was immediately engulfed in flames. But oddly enough she could feel no pain. And the flames seemed to not reach her. She started to run down the stairs as fast as she could, and as she could se the next door, the flames suddenly disappeared. Somewhat short of breath, she stopped before the third door. This one made of clear crystal. The phosphorescent light were now so strong, that she had no difficulty reading what was written on it:

**_Pass this door with evil in mind_**

****

**_And suffer eternal pain in the demon dimension_**

****

She opened the door and let out a whistle. Before her was a huge room. Filled with shelves about to burst from the burden of books. And several doors led into similar rooms. In an open place in the middle of the room, stood a table and a chair. And to her utter surprise, a computer. Even here, Drusilla thought. Even here, at the core of the Gypsy magic, has the computer age done its approach. 

Somewhat hesitantly she sat down by it. On the screen she was told to press enter. She did, and suddenly the room were filled with the sound of a voice. 

"Welcome, seeker of knowledge. Enter your quest, and if what you seek still exists, you will have it." 

Feeling a bit scared over this modern monstrosity called a computer, she for a moment thought about searching manually through the stacks. But gave it up as impossible. She would die from old age before she was half finished. So she gathered her courage, and wrote down her quest. 

RETRIEVAL FROM HELL. 

A few seconds later, the machine told her where to look for material on the matter. The list of books on the matter and matters related to it was surprisingly large. And with a sigh of frustration she got to work. 

End of chapter five


	6. Royal Rumble In Hell

"Aaaaaaahhhrrrgg!!!!" Angel screamed out as that little twerp The Anointed One slowly dipped him in a pool of Holly Water.

No damage was visible on Angel's skin. Yet the pain was indescribable. This was his punishment for trying to escape. Fifty years ago, he had tried to escape. But after killing countless small and many human sized devils (even a few larger ones), he was finally overpowered by the ruler of the eight level of hell. The Malebolgia.

He had been given a choice. Either he could agree to become a general in Malebolgia's army, in the last war between the powers of heaven and hell, to become a hell-spawn. Or he would suffer eternal punishment for trying to escape hell.

All Angel needed to do was to remember all the heinous acts that Angelus had done to Buffy and her friends. And he knew that he deserved to be in hell. He had told Malebolgia to go kiss his own ass, but every now and then Malebolgia came back with his offer. He seemed quite eager to have Angel in his army.

And Angel knew why. As a vampire, Angel had entered a new phase. He had now the powers of a master vampire, and a very powerful one at that. If he had had this kind of power around the time of The Harvest, Buffy wouldn't have needed to get involved. She wouldn't have had to die. Now, he probably was more powerful than The Master. Adding to that, Malebolgia had always admired the cruelty of Angelus. And In the last years the demon lord's ways of persuasions had become more and more brutal. Until now, even Angel couldn't take it anymore. He knew that if he didn't get away soon, he would give in to Malebolgias demands.  He had to try to escape again, consequences be damned.

As he was totally submerged in holly water, he reached inside and drew out every bit of power he had. Mentally blocking out the pain, he opened his mouth and filled his lungs with water. And as he surfaced again, he spewed all of it over The Anointed One. As that rotten bastard screamed in pain, Angel let out a loud roar as he broke the chains with witch he was bound. With a simple manipulation of gravity, he floated over the pool. He landed softly in front of The Anointed One, tearing of his head before he grabbed a sword from one of the guarding demons.

Angel knew it. This time it was all or nothing. As hordes of minor and not-so-minor demons came against him, he swung the sword with deadly precision, moving with a powerful grace that far preceded his attackers. But still they were too many. As he practically walked through a giant chaos demon, he could sense what he had feared. Behind him, two of the most powerful Hell-spawns were approaching. Against one of them he could manage. But two was beyond even his limit.

Suddenly he heard a scream and turned around, just in time to see one spawn fall to the ground headless. And a shadowy creature was standing where the demon had once stood. The woman was cutting down minor demons as if they were grass. And for a moment he thought it was Buffy, and his heart cried for her. But then he saw that this woman was higher, and had a different fighting style, more like Kendra. But it definitely wasn't her, he heard as she shouted out in pure Irish brogue.

"Listen Leviathan, Baal, Lucifer, Malebolgia, and every other devil. I am the twice gifted. I am the voice of vengeance. Vengeance is mine. I have come for the one called Angelus ORourke of the Clan Rialle. This man does not belong in hell. I have come to bring him back to earth. Death will meet everyone that tries to stop me, because I am a warrior of the light, a servant of The Powers That Be, and knower of the Valheru magic. Fear me. I am evils death."

She punctuated her words by cutting down the other hell-spawn. Then she walked over to Angel.

"So Angel. Do you want to leave hell?" she said in a voice that seemed familiar. But still he couldn't figure out who she was. He just had the feeling he should know.

"Yeah, lets go," he said. And as one they started to chant, she in ancient Romanic, and Angel in Ancient Gaelic.

They moved side-by-side like fine-tuned war machines. Fighting themselves down the levels of hell, until they were at the first level. There they met a monster Angel recognised as the guardian of the Hellmouth.

"I am sending you back through the Hellmouth," she said. "Buffy and her friends need your help. All sorts of nasties are probably overrunning the town, since Buffy is still recovering from a rather deadly injury. And know this: your soul can never be taken away from you. Not by any means. So you can freely use your powers without fearing to loose control over the demon. We of the gypsy clan Calderash wanted to give you back your life too. But your demon is too powerful."

Then she started chanting. And as he understood what she was doing, he chanted with her. Together they opened the Hellmouth.

"Now go through it," she said. "And don't worry about the Hellmouth. I will close it behind you." He nodded and stepped into the opening. "Thank you," he said to the shadow person, before he stepped into the library. And as he left Hell and didn't have to fight anymore, he could again feel the full weight of Angelus's evil doings on his shoulders.  

"God Damn it! Don't you fangboys ever quit." Xander lay sprawled on the ground, after a particularly nasty backhand from a former rugby player. Xander shook his head and stumbled to his feet.

"I don't know how many times you guys have knocked me flat on the ground tonight. And quite frankly, I'm beginning to get bored by it."

Xander gathered what little strength he had left, and performed a roundhouse kick he wouldn't have had a chance at in top condition a few weeks ago.

The result was the vampire staggering backwards and straight onto Willows stake. With a puff, he disintegrated. "Yay!! That was my tenth vampire tonight," Xander said and tried to do the snoopy dance.

But due to a sudden dizzy spell he had to sit down on the nearest gravestone. "Ouch! My head!" He said and rubbed a beginning bump. "Anyone seen Buffy," he asked and looked around. Willow, Oz, and Cordelia were all sitting on gravestones as well, looking dead tired.

"No." Willow shook her head, and had to throw herself to the ground in order to avoid being hit, as Buffy came flying out of the shadows. With the body control that was the trademark of the Slayer, she rolled around in the air and landed on her feet like a cat.

Chasing her was the hugest vampire they had ever seen. And, as they soon noticed, one that was damn good in Martial Arts. He released a series of punches of witch the Slayer only blocked half of.

"Is that the best you can do," she said, and stepped aside from a kick to the stomach. Quickly she grabbed his foot. And threw him against the nearest gravestone, with such force it broke. 

Unbelievably quickly he was back on his feet. "Puny mortal. No one throws Castor around like a rag doll unpunished. You don't know who you are dealing with, or else you would just gracefully lay down and wait for your death."

"Nah! Don't think so. On second thought, I'm certain I would never go gently into the night. I will always rage and rage against the dying of the light," Buffy smirked as she delivered a vicious kick to his groin.

He let out a low growl, and kicked her in the stomach. "Puny mortal, have you ever heard of The Three?"

"Actually I have," Buffy said as she ducked an uppercut that would have hit her in the right temple. "They were just a bunch of wuzzies, that didn't dare to fight alone. They were totally dependant on the strength of the other two. What about them?"

She jumped into tiger position and came crashing down on the foot that was meant to sweep her to the ground. She could hear the snapping of bone. But still he stood seemingly rock steady on the ground.

"I was their teacher," he growled and attacked in a flurry of motion.

Buffy had to use all she had of strength and experience just to keep him at bay. She saw Xander move up behind Castor. "No, Xander let me try to take him down," she said. Hesitantly he did as she asked and sat down on a gravestone again. But she could see he was ready to attack at any moment if he decided that she was loosing. And she couldn't but admire his courage. There he sat and it hit her how handsome he was. Why hadn't she noticed that before?

Her moment of distraction cost her a flying trip over the heads of her friends. She landed on her hands and flipped back on her feet. Just in time to block a kick to her kidneys. The battle raged for several minutes. And she felt like she was slowly loosing. He was fighting like a well-oiled machine. And she knew without a doubt that this vampire was a far better fighter than any vampire she had met so far, except The Master and Angelus.

But in size he was their superior. He had to be about 2,10 meters high. And he probably weighed around 140 kilos. All muscles. And what was her puny 1,55 and fifty kilos compared to that? Slayer strength or not, she was doomed.

She was about to call for help, when she came to think of her fight with Kendra, and her words to her afterwards. She remembered something Giles once told her.

"When fighting a superior enemy, do the unexpected."

"You are quite good," she said. "But you are no match for me." Using her greater speed, she started to whirl in front of him. Using different martial arts, all the time. Using no pattern. Just acting on sheer instinct and idea.

Suddenly she bent into a classic boxing stance as she started whistling the theme from Rocky. And as she saw him adapt to her new fighting technique, she attacked in a chaotic mix of Karate, Jiu Jitsu, Tae Kwon Do, Capoeira, Judo, Dim mak, and any other Martial Art technique she could think of. And just to throw him even more of, she threw in some pinching, scratching and hair pulling too. And she could see his confusion grow. With a swift movement she slammed her hands to his ears. Exploding his eardrums, and then she kicked him of all might in the groin, before she danced around him and sent him to the ground with a well aimed roundhouse kick to the back of his head. As he jumped to his feet, she let out a cynical laugh.

"Now its my turn to brag. I have killed far greater demons than you. I killed The Master. Well, he killed me first but that didn't stop me. You see. I'm the fucking energizer bunny. I just keep coming back. To get on with my bragging," she said as she punched him straight to the solar plexus with such force that he flew a couple of meters down the graveyard. "I killed Lothos when I was fifteen. I killed Kaikistos. I killed Baltazar, I defeated Der Kinderstot. I killed a Bezoar. I took down the Sisterhood of the Apocalypse. I have killed several Tarakans. Not to mention defeating Angelus and Achatla at the same time. Need I go on?"

She looked into his eyes, and saw the uncertainty grow in them. And just to confuse him even more, she started reciting the words of the soul-restoring spell. She saw the panic take him. His movements started to get sloppy and hasty. That was all she needed. She gathered all she had left of strength, and broke his neck with a roundhouse kick. Before he even hit the ground, his heart had an appointment with the sharp end of a wooden stake. As the dust settled she fell to the ground totally exhausted.

With a loud groan of pain she stumbled to her feet and went over to her friends. "That's it! I quit for tonight. I feel like I have been driven over by a Monster Truck. But guess what guys. I'm finally back to full strength."

"Yeah! You were fantastic," Xander said and steadied her as they walked towards the school library.

Back at the library they told Giles about the patrol. Xander had killed ten vampires. That is, the last one with help from Willow. Willow her self had killed five vampires. Oz seven. Cordelia five, and Buffy twenty. That brought the evenings catch up to a grand total of forty-seven.

As they started to see to their cuts and bruises, Buffy told about Castor. When Giles heard the name, he went visibly paler.

"Buffy. Are you sure that it was Castor he called himself."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Why? Giles, I don't like the expression on your face. What's wrong?"

Giles started cleaning his glasses as he sat down in front of her. "Its just that Castor has a reputation as the greatest Slayer-killer of all time. We have successfully linked him to the murder of twenty-five slayers, over a span of seven hundred years. So if you really did defeat him, it would really be quite a nice… ahum, feather in the hat so to speak."

"Well, what can I say Giles. I'm a sucker for feathers. Do you think maybe the Watchers Council will send me a letter of congratulations? Nah! They would probably just hit me on the head with the Slayers handbook, and point out everything I did wrong."

"Well," Giles said looking at his protégé. "As far as I am concerned, you did more than well."

"I did?" 

Buffy was practically beaming with joy. "Woah! I definitely need to remember this day, the day when my Watcher actually was impressed by my achievements. It has to be the first time in the whole Slayer/Watcher co-work history. A pleased Watcher! Woah! I think I need to sit down. The ground is starting to shake under me."

"Ahem, Buffy!" Willow suddenly sounded very afraid. "Buffy! The ground is actually shaking."

"Oh no," Xander said as he pointed towards the point where the Hellmouth was.

A huge poison-yellow cloud was welling up. And with the sound of a thousand winds and demons screaming, the Hellmouth started to open. With a loud crack the floor was blown to bits. Flying everywhere, as the sulphur smelling cloud spread throughout the entire library. A dark shadow appeared at the centre of it. And as the cloud slowly vanished, they recognised the person with fear. Angelus was back. Surrounded bye an aura of power, he stood there as the very image of The Dark Lord himself.

That was, until he raised his head towards the heavens. And with tightly shut eyes screamed with all the pain in the world. As the Hellmouth closed behind him, he fell to his knees. Crying out in such pain that even Xander had no doubt that it was real.

"Angel, is it you?" Buffy was the first one to speak. Nearly a minute passed and Buffy was about to ask again.

"Yes it is," he finally answered with a rusty voice. As if he wasn't used to speak. "Yes, it is me."

He didn't get to say more because Buffy ran to him, and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, and whispered in her ear.

"For what its worth. I'm sorry. I'm oh so sorry. I should have known. I should have translated the curse a long time ago. But before you came into my life, all I had was pain and nightmares of my past crimes. It didn't occur to me that those bloody gypsies would have a way to increase my suffering even more. I thought that all that could be done to me, had been done. And I truly believed that I deserved whatever came my way. I didn't think that anyone with the power to stop Angelus, in their right mind would give him a way to come back and hurt more people. I'm so sorry."

"Shhhh," she said. Wiping away his bloodstained tears. "It wasn't you. Remember, You are Angel. A totally different entity than the demon Angelus."

"You are right," he sobbed. "I know you are right. But I just can't stop feeling guilty."

Then he walked over to the others. Telling each and everyone how sorry he was. As Xander raised his hand, Angel prepared him self for the blow. But instead Xander took a firm grip of his shoulder.

"Don't think of it. Even stubborn silly me has seen the difference between you and Angelus. There is nothing to forgive. Not even for not knowing that the curse could be broken. The gypsies went far over the line with that one. So therefore I promise you: no more Deadboy." Then he smiled evilly. "But I may start calling you Broodboy, until you get over your guilt trip." 

Willow and Cordelia were just as forgiving. Even Giles seemed to have forgiven him, although he seemed to be uncomfortable around him. No wonder, Angel thought, as the memories of Jenny's murder went like a burning arrow through his mind. He closed his eyes and forced the memories as far away as he could. As he opened them again, he for the first time noticed how dishevelled they looked.

"My God, what happened?! Who did this to you?" he asked as he looked at each and everyone of them.

"Well, we went patrolling," Willow said. "We were just tending to our injuries after a successful patrol, as you came back through the Hellmouth." 

"Yeah, we got forty-seven members of the fang-gang tonight," Xander smirked.

"Forty seven!" Angel said in awe. Then he got worried. "That means the town is virtually overtaken by vampires. Something big is up." He zoomed out as he remembered something his saviour said. "Or," he stated. "The Slayer has been out of action for a long time. Now, tell me everything, and I will help to clean out the town. My powers are far greater now than they were before. I am now probably the most powerful vampire in the world. Even stronger than The Master was."

"You have to be, to be able to come back through The Hellmouth." Giles stated awe-stricken.

"Oh that," Angel said. "I didn't do that alone. My saviour did most of that, I never saw her as anything other than a shadow. But her voice sounded familiar. I just can't figure out who it was. The only thing I know is that she is of the gypsy clan Calderash. Well, anyway, we opened the Hellmouth together. Now please give me the rundown on the situation here. The sooner I get out on the streets of Sunnydale, the better."     

End of chapter six


	7. Leaving Hell The frustration of Angel

**_Well, here is the 7th chapter of Friends and Enemies. I would like to thank Harry 2 for his reviews. And I will also like to thank my trusted Beta, The Red Dragons Order. Both of the above is long since overdue. Sorry. _**

****

**_Well let's get on with it. _**

As they fought their way down the levels in hell, she felt her strength disappear more and more for every second. And at the second level, she began to fear that she wouldn't have enough strength left to send Angel back to earth. She actually had trouble protecting the string that connected her astral body with her physical self. And she knew she would die, the same moment that string was cut.

But somehow she did it. Angel was out of hell.

But her sigh of relief cost her dearly, as she suddenly found her self grabbed by the Hellmouth Guardian. She felt its tentacles squeeze harder and harder and the string was stretched to its limit. With the last of her strength, she concentrated, and tried to draw power from the Guardian for a last attempt.

She forced out the words of the ancient Valheru magic that very well could kill her, it was that powerful. And sent up a prayer to The Powers That Be.

With a blinding light she tore free from the Guardian. And with the speed of light, she raced through the remaining levels of hell, up to earth, and in head spinning speed over the landscape. Racing over Los Angeles. Following the string back. With a searing pain she was back in her body. And then, everything was black.

How long she was unconscious, she didn't know. But slowly she woke up. Shivering from cold, soaking wet from sweat, every muscle in her body screaming out in pain.

Dizzy from exhaustion she stumbled to her feet, and went to the bathroom. As she stood under the shower, letting the beams of warm water massage away the tension in her body, the full brunt of her exhaustion hit her. She was so tired; all she could do was to keep her self from sinking to the floor, and sleeping right there, in the shower.

After the shower, she went straight to bed with a good feeling that she for once had done as The Powers That Be wanted her to do. She was just about to drift of to sleep, when her head exploded in pain as a vision hit her. More powerful than any vision she had ever had. She saw a person she had wished she would never see again. She saw Cathla the Warrior Sorceress of the First Circle of Hell. She was in Sunnydale. Planning to create a twin hellmout, and thereby release certain an unavoidable hell on earth.

And Spike had teamed up with her. What was up with that? Spike had never been one for destroying the world. But now he had teamed up with Cathla in more than one way, she thought. And a wave of jealousy hit her. Then the picture changed, and she saw Buffy and her friends trying to stop Cathla. God damn it!! They were chanceless. They would never be able to break through Cathla's magic defences. They would all die. Drusilla jumped up in the bed. She had to help them. She had to hurry back to Sunnydale. But the vision became too much for her already exhausted body. With a soft thud she fell back onto the bed. In a sleep that was close to comatose.

"God damn it!!" The gang was once again gathered in the library, researching and trying to find a way to defeat Cathla. Now everybody looked up from his or her work. Baffled by the unusual outburst from the usually so quiet redhead.

Willow threw the computer mouse into the wall in sheer frustration. "Now I have searched that bloody net for hours and hours. And what do I find. Nada, zilch, squat, nichts. Not a bloody thing. I have visited the web page of god knows how many witch covens. And half of them turned out to be a bunch of nogooders playing party games in the dark. And the ones that were serious, had only one thing to say.

"The only ones that can stop a Warrior Sorceress of the First Circle of Hell, is another Warrior Sorceress or Sorcerer of the First Circle of Hell. Or a naturally born warrior sorceress/sorcerer in the service of The Powers That Be. And the only ones I know of was Cassandra. She is said to have been the most powerful witch to ever live. But sadly she died three thousand years ago. And then we have Shimiko Yumasimo. But he was killed fifteen hundred years ago by a clan of Balrogs. High up in the Himalayans.

"My own magic powers are a joke compared to Cathlas," Willow stated while pacing the floor furiously. "She would wipe me out in seconds. Even Angel couldn't defeat her. He could perhaps withstand her. But defeat her, no way! What we need now is a miracle. Or else we, and the rest of the world, are doomed."

"I'm glad you realise that all hope is out," a cold yet melodious voice said. Everybody's eyes went up to the gallery. And there, in thin air, sat Cathla, or rather a mental projection of her.

"Foolish children. Why don't you all give up? By this time tomorrow, the world will be at my mercy. That is if I had any." She let out a laughter that made cold chills run down their backs. "But please, do try to fight. It will be amusing to see your ludicrous attempts; the short while you will last. I'll give you a quarter of an hour against Spike and his men. And maybe five minutes against me."

Again she laughed madly, and let her projection fade slowly away.

For a moment everybody just sat there. To shocked to move. Then Buffy jumped to her feet, storming out of the building. She had to get some air. God Damn it! She hated to feel helpless. And the bitterness of it all struck her with staggering strength. She had survived Drusilla's attack, just so that she could die at the hands of another raving lunatic.

As they often did when she were dealing with issues, her steps steered to the park, and the duck pond. With a steady pace she started running around it, while pondering over her life. And shedding tears that everybody was to busy to notice. Finally, after ten rounds or so, she stopped and sat down on a bench. She looked around her.

People of all ages were having a good time. Over by a small group of oak trees some elders were doing Thai chi. On the open grass some teenagers were playing Frisbee, And right in front of her three small kids were eagerly fishing in the duck pond. She doubted they would catch any because they were using too big bait. Buffy leant back on the bench and closed her eyes. Feeling the warm sunshine on her face. She was tired. Tired of everything. The constant danger, all those infernal prophesies. If only she had someone to talk to, someone alike her. Another Slayer. But both Kendra and Faith were dead. And Clarissa, the one that came after Faith, was an impossible bitch, with Kendra's sense for rules and obedience, and Faith's explosive temper and rude mouth. Buffy, sighed in despair. Despite all her good friends, she was lonely. Oh so lonely.

Suddenly she tensed, as she sensed a very strong power signature, the type that only came from an extremely strong and vicious vampire, or a Slayer gone dark. She opened her eyes and before her stood a woman with long straight red hair. Clad in a white blouse, black suede pants and dark red boots, she radiated strength and determination. It took a while before she recognised her, and then only because the woman's green eyes turned bright yellow for a moment. Eyes that usually were clouded by insanity were now sharp and intelligent. Fear ran through Buffy as she reached for the small emergency stake in her hair.

"So, Drusilla," she said as calmly as she could. "Have you come back to finish what you started. And pardon me, but shouldn't you be toast now," she said while pointing at the sun.

"No," Drusilla said. And to Buffys utter shock, tears ran down her cheeks, clear human tears.

"I'm not going to kill you. I have come to ask for forgiveness, and to say thank you. Your blood was all that I needed to break the Bonds of Insanity. And thereby my soul and life returned." Then she sat down on the bench and started telling the strangest and most horrific story Buffy had ever had heard. Finished with her story, Drusilla wiped away the tears. "That's why I'm back. I'm here to help you in the fight against Chatla."

At the library they were still researching, and as the sun went down, Angel came to help. Nobody had seen Buffy for hours, and they were getting worried.

Willow was again searching the net, while muttering curses under her breath.

Xander had his nose buried in an old tome that was covering most of the desk he was sitting at.

Angel was trying to come up with some sort of magical protection for his friends. While Cordelia were helping him the best she could, while carving stakes.

"If I say this spell, these amulets should, at least in theory protect against most magic." He took a pinch of a grey powder, (he didn't want to think about what it consisted of), and sprayed it over the amulets he had made. Then he raised his voice and chanted in Gaelic. With a loud explosion he was sent thundering into a bookshelf. And as he was buried under it, a thick and really stinky cloud rose from the amulets.

"Angel! Are you okay big boy?" Cordelia dived coughing into the smoke and dug out Angel. "Speak to me. Angel. Come on man. Aren't vampires supposed to be close to invulnerable? Buffy is going to kill me if something happened to you. Come on, don't do this to me."

She grabbed the stunned vampire, and with surprising strength dragged him out from under the bookshelf.

With a flow of cursing on about twelve different languages, including at least four dead ones, Angel stumbled to his feet.

"Bloody Hell!! That God Damned spell backfired!" Then he stumbled, and for a moment had to steady himself on Cordy. "Damn it!" He growled. "I'm too old for this shit. I'm so out of practice. It must be at least a two hundred years since I last used my magic powers. Thank God, Angelus never cared for them. He preferred mind games and brutal force." He sat down on a chair. Submerging himself in a serious brood mode. "I'm a failure," he stated flatly. "I couldn't even make those bloody amulets."

"How is it, Willow? Any news about where we can find a Warrior Sorceress in the service of The Powers That Be?"

"No, Angel. It's hopeless. I'm afraid that this time the Scooby gang has met its match."

"Don't bet on it," Buffy said as she came in the swing doors along with a tall redhead, which seemed familiar to them. But they just couldn't figure out why. "I have found us a Warrior Sorceress. This is . . . Edith," the Slayer said with an odd smirk towards the newcomer.

"Hey everybody. I hear you have some trouble with a certain Warrior Sorceress called Cathla. Well I'm here to help you. And I think that I will make the odds immensely better. I have seen that bitch in action before. I know what she is capable of. Last time I didn't have the . . ." She hesitated for a moment. "Health to fight her. But now I'm fit for fight."

Willow looked over to Giles, and he nodded. They both sensed a great magical power in her. And her movements were those of a warrior. Almost like those of a Slayer. Even Xander and Cordelia, could sense how powerful this woman was.

But all of their reactions were nothing compared to Angel's. He turned a unhealthy shade of grey, and left the library like a bat out of hell.

"What the hell was that," Xander said.

"Oh. You all have to excuse Angel," Edith said. "You see. A hundred years ago, I had a rather nasty run in with Angelus. He is probably still blaming himself for the evil deeds of the demon."

She walked up to the table and looked at the amulets.

"Hmm. So this is his work. Quite impressing. He has almost managed to make six Tears of Hecate; it also explains the explosion that we heard. He just forgot one thing. A pure vampire should never use that particular spell. Let me finish them for you."

She did a few strange hand movements above the amulets. Then her hand glowed white for a second.

"Now they are finished. I just had to remove the vampire influence on them. Well!! Now we better get going. Preparing for the oncoming battle. Together, I think we have a good chance."

End of chapter seven 


	8. How to humble a bitch Part one

**Well here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it. **

**(Rumble in Sunnydale.)**

**(Chatla opens a can of whopass she is not prepared for.)**

Cathla was just finishing drawing the last lines of a protection pentagram on the floor. Then she would be ready. Ready to reign over a fear-ridden world.

She used a bottle of Virgin's blood for a second smaller, but more powerful protection-circle. In the large pentagram stood every item she needed to open the Hellmouth. The second was for herself if everything, against all odds, should go wrong.

Not that she really feared that something would go wrong. But neither did The Master some seventy years ago. Yet, he got trapped in his underground cave. And when he finally escaped, that little twit – the Slayer – killed him. So it was best to be prepared for every contingency.

"So! Are you ready to unleash hell on earth," she asked. And turned around to her wonderfully vicious vampiric lover.

"Yes Cath. Everything is ready. Our army is standing ready to step in if necessary," Spike said. And tried to be as enthusiastic as he sounded.

But all he felt was an all consuming rage against the Slayer and her bloody friends. All he did was pointing towards that one goal, to kill the Slayer and her friends, to get the ultimate revenge for them killing his beloved Drucilla. And then when she least of all expected it, he would kill that bloody manipulating bitch, Cathla. She thought she had him wrapped around her little finger.

Well she was inn for a surprise. Nobody! _Nobody_ used or manipulated Spike!!!

"Good work Spike," she said as she started drawing power directly from the Hellmouth. She lifted her hands and was about to start chanting, when her back suddenly stiffened. She turned around and looked up at the stairs.

Down came a dark-haired man clad in what she would call a black combat suit. Around his waist was a belt with wooden stakes, and all over his body a small armoury of bladed weapons was strapped. The biggest being two black Katanas strapped to his back. But somehow she doubted he needed that many weapons, as he seemed to be a weapon himself. She could actually feel his power. This man was dangerous.

She glanced over to Spike, and saw him totally awe-stricken. And she also saw something she never had expected to se. Not in Spike. Not in William the Bloody, one of the most evil and vicious, and not to mention fearless vampires in the world. What she saw was fear. Pure unadulterated fear.

"Who are you?" she said to the newcomer. He stood before her. Feet steadily planted on the floor, radiating an unnerving self-esteem.

"I am Angelus ORourke of the clan Rialle. And I have returned from hell in order to help stop your heinous acts."

A moment she was dumbstruck. Standing right before her, was perhaps the most legendary of the newer vampires in the world. Barely 250 years old, he already had a reputation that far preceded those of vampires that were three and maybe four times older. The legendary Scourge of Europe. But she also knew that this was the souled version of him. And she could clearly sense that the stories told about him were wrong on one account. The souled vampire wasn't less powerful than the soulless.

In fact she had never sensed a stronger vampire. Not even the Master, and _he_ was well over two thousand years, before the Slayer that came back from death, killed him. Slightly nervous she realised that before her stood a Master Vampire, something that should be impossible. Vampires didn't reach that kind of power until they at least were 500 years. And on his chest she saw one of the most powerful protection amulets in the world, a tear of Hecate.

'Well,' she thought. 'This could be interesting after all.' She let out a maniacal laughter.

"You don't seriously think that you can defeat me? A Warrior Sorceress of the First Circle of Hell."

"No," he stated calmly. "But I damned well can try," he said and grinned viciously. "And besides, you didn't really think I was stupid enough to come alone when a whole army of vampires are waiting for their cue to attack. Nope, I brought the cavalry." He let out a sharp whistle. And down they came one by one.

First came a small redhead that would have seemed fragile, if not for the sparks of witch-fire that ran from her fingertips. She stopped at Angelus' left side. And her eyes had the expression of a seasoned warrior checking out her enemy.

"I am Willow Rosenburg," she stated. "And I have come here today to stop you from creating the twin Hellmouth."

Chatla could sense a raw magical power in her that was impressive. But she was obviously untrained. With the right training though, she could become a powerful sorceress. Cathla's eyes went back to the stairs.

Coming down was a small blonde, she recognised as the Slayer, the Slayer that killed the Master. And never in her seven hundred and fifty years of living, had she seen a more powerful Slayer. She quite possibly could be the strongest Slayer in history. She stopped at Angel's right side.

"I am Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. Slaying is my duty. And you are my victim," she stated, as she grabbed the vampire's hand.

The sorceress could feel the impossible connection of love between vampire and Slayer. And with a start she realised who they were, the two great ones that the prophecy spoke of, the two that would be the start of the end for the vampires on earth. Shit!!!

What the hell! Down the stairs came a short man with spiky green hair. He stopped by the witch-apprentice's right side, and she could smell the wolf inside him. As he stood there he slowly and with full control changed into part werewolf mode. Just enough, so that he got the power and speed of a werewolf, but still had human shape underneath the fur.

"I am Daniel Ozbourne. And I will rip out your spine and step on it," he stated with a cold as ice glare.

Shit!!! Only ancient Indian shamans had the power of controlled shape shifting. Then she sensed the spell, and realised that it was the red-haired one that had given him that ability. 'How in the world could these young people possess such powers?' she marvelled.

But it wasn't over yet. Down came a young couple. Both dark-haired. They took place on each their side of their friends. Well these two fortunately hadn't any special powers. Except, they both, as well as the others, bore a Tear of Hecate around their neck. Like the others, they were clad in a black combat suit, and were armed literally to their teeth. And their body-language told that they were experienced warriors.

"I am Cordelia Chase," the woman said.

"And I am Alexander Lavelle Harris," The man said.

"And we are here to stop you at any cost."

Suddenly Cathla's head jerked up as two more people came down. A man in his late forties, and a beautiful woman in her late twenties, stepped up to the sides of their friends.

"I am Rupert Giles, the watcher of the best Slayer of all times. I am the Ripper, former Black mage and follower of Eghyon. I am here to stop you wretched woman."

The young woman stepped forth. "I am your death," she simply stated.

Goddess Hecate!! Who were these people? This Ripper person suddenly had the cold merciless eyes of a killer. And she sensed a vast knowledge in the Black arts. As well as White magic.

But the woman, that's where the most power came from. She was like a living breathing creature of pure magic power. Never had she sensed anything like it. Not since she killed her mentor five hundred years ago. She was truly a worthy opponent. This would certainly be more entertaining than she had expected. Far too long a-time had gone by since somebody gave her a decent fight. She reached inside to the blackness of her heart. And started to draw power directly from the Hellmouth on which the town was built upon.

"Puny mortals," she said, as her eyes started to glow like torches from the pits of hell. "You don't have a chance," she said as she stepped inside the smallest protection pentagram. Then she lifted two fingers to her mouth and released a sharp whistle. Suddenly the room was filled with hordes of Spike's minions. Instantly the Scooby-gang reacted like one being, jumping into the fight with death defiance. Fighting like a well-oiled machine.

Cordelia and Xander were fighting back to back, both of them with a stake in one hand and a short sword in the other.

"God damit, Xander! Watch where you are pointing that thing," Cordelia shouted as Xander's sword shot past her, the air pressure messing up her hair. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to make my hair this way? You just ruined well-past half an hour's work!"

But as the dust of a vampire fell over her, Xander turned around to her. "Oh shut up, you bloody stuck up bitch. I just saved your life, and all you can do is complain about your hair? I am sooo glad you're not my girlfriend anymore."

"Well duh, you weren't exactly dream-boy yourself," she retaliated as she tossed Xander away from a vicious Bowie Knife. With a quick thrust she staked the vampire, while she slapped Xander over the head.

"No matter what I did, it was always Buffy. Buffy is so though. Buffy is so brave. Buffy is sooo beautiful. And if you weren't drooling over Buffy, you were cheating on me with Willow. How do you think that felt? No, you don't know. You never thought about that did you?!" With the power of rage, she forced the stake through the heart of a vampire and decapitated another one before she viciously attacked a third one.

Xander didn't answer for a while. He was engaged in a furious hand-to-hand combat with a large bulky vampire. As he finally beheaded it, he turned around to her again. In a hurt tone, he spoke.

"For your information, I only cheated on you once. And that was just a fluke. And neither Willow nor me felt like repeating it. And for the longest time I tried to make up for it. To make amends. But you just dwelled in your self-pity, and didn't even notice it. Believe it or not, I loved you. And Willow was head over heels in love with Oz."

"And about your insane jealousy over Buffy. It was so not called for. Yeah. I got the hots for her, all right. I had the hots for her the same way you had the hots for Brad Pit. I loved the sight of her. Like if I looked at a beautiful painting. The person Buffy, I stopped loving a long time before that. But you were too busy being jealous to notice that."

The silence between them was tremendous, and Cordelia attacked the vampires, like if driving out her own inner demons. Chop, thrust, thrust, chop, duck, chop, chop, sweep, thrust.

"Well I guess I owe you an apology," she then said. "I was pretty rotten against you, wasn't I?"

"Yep!" He said. And grabbed her shoulder, leaped over her head and staked a vampire while braking the neck on another one witch quickly became dust under Cordy's stake. Then came the words he never had expected to hear from her. Not from the Ice Queen.

"I'm sorry," she said then. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Well, so am I," he said. "I mean I'm sorry that I hurt you. And if it hadn't been for Willow and me, you probably never would have ended in hospital, fighting for your life."

"No, Xander. It was neither your nor Willows fault that I fell through that rotten wood and got impaled. It was just one of fates cruel twists and turns. . . So what do you say? Friends?"

"Yeah, friends," he said and smiled at her for the first time in two years.

"Well. Its good to have my best bud back," she said, as he suddenly threw her away from a particularly nasty vampire with even more weapons than them. For a moment they looked at each other. Then they joined forces and attacked.

Willow was fighting with all her might. Her sword was sparkling with witch-fire. And every vampire that came near it, exploded into dust. Using her small body, and her speed and flexibility to her advantage she fought like she never had done before.

While chanting with a dooming voice she went through the vampires like a tornado of steel and wood. A while ago she had been separated from Oz, and her heart was heavy with worry for him, even though she knew that he probably managed just as well as her self. Maybe better.

Suddenly her luck was out and she found herself forced up against the wall by a vampire that probably weighed at least three times as much as her.

"Ah, a witch," he said. "It has been a while since I tasted the blood of a witch. It will be a pleasure." He started to lower his teeth to her throat ignoring her attempts to get free.

Helpless she closed her eyes and waited for death. Suddenly she heard a scream and felt dust against her face. Still scared she stood there. Eyes closed shut. "Relax Willow your are saved," she heard Edith's voice. She opened her eyes and nearly screamed when she saw the vampire visage she knew so well.

"Drusilla? But aren't you dust?" Then she saw the Tear of Hecate and the truth dawned for her, at the same moment she sensed Drusilla's soul.

"You're Edith? How… how is this possible?!" she asked.

A grief-stricken expression fell over the ex-vampires face. "Buffys blood," she simply stated and dived into the crowd of vampires leaving a trace of dust behind. For a few moments Willow was breathless. Then her grip on the sword fastened, and she followed in the trace of her former enemy.

"Aaaaaaoooooohhh!!" Oz fought viciously against the vampires. He had been forced away from Willow, and was worried sick for her.

"Arhghh!" He growled as a searing pain went through his left thigh. He looked down and saw a crossbow bolt protruding from it, blood pumping from the wound at a dangerous rate. And as the pain overwhelmed him, his feet buckled under him. He fell to the floor as seemingly every vampire in sight attacked. He rose to his knees facing his attackers, with his wolf-eyes bright yellow by rage.

"Aooooohhhahhhhhoooooo!!!" He yelled as he raised his sword, determined to die fighting. But just as they attacked, he witnessed something spectacular. Seemingly out of nowhere, Buffy came charging. And with down right inhuman speed she killed his attackers. Then she simply threw him over her shoulder and started fighting her way through the masses of vampires, back to the stairs. In one gigantic leap she jumped the three meters to the podium at the top. Quickly she examined the wound.

"Just lay still Oz," she stated. "The arrow tore off the main blood vessel to your thigh. You need to keep pressure on the wound," she said as she reached within her combat suit and brought out her belt using it as a tourniquet. Still the blood stream was frightening.

"This ain't good." It definitely isn't good. She muttered.

I hope Giles is right about the only ting that could kill a werewolf being a silver bullet She thought.

"Just try to relax," she said to Oz. "Keep your heart rate down. I'll be back soon wolfy. I'm getting Edith."

As she jumped of the podium and down into the kicking, slicing and screaming mass of vampires, she reached inside of herself and draw out every single thread of power she possessed. And with a battle cry, she let the battle rage completely consume her.

Angel felt the power roll through his veins like it never had before. All his power was released, and he didn't feel a shred of the demon-existence. Drusilla had spoken the truth in hell. His demon truly was gone.

With a Celtic battle cry that hadn't been spoken for hundreds of years, he simply ran up the wall and somersaulted through the air, landing in the thickest vampire concentration like a Hell Storm. Moving with such deadly grace that several lesser vampires just stopped in their movements, awe-stricken by this revelation of death.

"Goddess Kali," he heard some of them pray, before they disappeared in a cloud of dust.

And as the memories of Angelus' heinous actions, invaded his mind he started chanting, Silently wowing that none of these vampires would remain undead after this day.

For the first time in 250 years tapping into the Celtic druid magic that was his birthright, he made flames sprout from the blades of his swords. And the power of his mind broke the fighting spirit of his enemies. In the corner of an eye he saw Drusilla run up the stairs leaning over a prone body there. Quickly he ran to the stairs. Rapidly cutting down the vampires that, true to their predatory mind, ran for the wounded prey.

As he reached the top step, he saw Oz lying in a pool of his own blood. Angel felt a twinge of bloodlust, but easily forced it back, now that he didn't have to fight the demon at the same time. He watched As Drusilla brutally and quick ripped the arrow out of Oz's thigh, after first removing the head of the arrow. Then she forced the edges of the wound together, while chanting softly. And, amazingly, the wound closed quickly, and the bleeding was gone.

My god , he thought, as he felt the power emanating from her. What in god's name have I created? 

"Nothing," she said an turned to him. "It was Angelus, not you."

"What?!! Oh yeah. You're right. I just didn't think I was speaking loud he said."

"You didn't," she said, and leaped back into the fight, leaving Angel dumbstruck for a moment before he rejoined the fight as well.

Giles started to get tired. Correction. He felt more dead than alive. Every muscle in his body ached by exhaustion. They had now been fighting for well over an hour. And finally, amazingly enough they seemed to be winning. He estimated they had killed over a hundred and fifty vampires tonight, and now only a few of them were left.

He was about to draw his breath in relief, when he suddenly was attacked by what had to be a leftover from Balthazar's troupe. Armoured and with two swords in his hands, he was more than a match for Giles. Giles reached into the darkest recesses of his soul and let Ripper completely loose. But even then, all he could do was to defend as best as he could against this far better swordsman. And with increasing speed he started loosing the grip of the situation. Finally all his reserves were used. And as he parried a stroke to his neck, he fell backwards, onto the floor.

In a desperate attempt, he tried to set up a magical defence shield, but couldn't. He was too exhausted. He forced himself up on his knees, and steadied on the sword. Proudly waiting for the death stroke.

But in a flurry of motion his salvation appeared. With a soft swish, the vampire combusted into a pile of ashes, and stepping on the ashes, was Buffy.

"Thank you," he said to his Slayer.

"You're welcome," she said. And for the briefest moment he thought her eyes turned bright yellow. Then she let out a battle cry and leaped into the last vampires together with the rest of the gang. Dear God , he thought. Dear God don't let it be. It can't be! I must have seen wrong. I must have! , he thought as fear shook his body.

_End of chapter eight_


	9. Catfight Royale

**Finally the next chapter. I know, it has gone slow with my reposting of the beta read version of this story. And I am sorry about that. Sorry about that. Part of it is that I am in need of more Beta Readers. And then there is always Real Life. Well, it is only two more chapters to go after this one. And then I can start on something new. **

**As always I am eternally thankful to my trusted Beta Reader, The Red Dragons Order, she is doing a marvellous making my strange pot-hooks into understandable English. And now, ON WITH THE SHOW ! ! !**

**(Catfight Royale)**

**(What do you do if you are in the near vicinity of two **

**Warrior Sorceresses who are pissed off at each other?)**

**(Run For Cover ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !)**

From his secure place within the largest protection pentagram, Spike stared out at the battleground in deep shock. It was impossible! Two hundred Vampires, and all of them were gone. When did they become this good at fighting?

Even that whining bimbo Cordelia fought like a lion. And he could actually sense the power coming from Willow. She was far more dangerous than he had thought.

And the Slayer!! Only one word came to his mind. Divine. She moved with godlike grace and power. No Slayer he had ever seen or heard of came near of being close to her, neither in technique nor in power. She truly had to be one of the two great ones he realised with immense fear.

A fear heightened by the fact that the second of the great ones was here too, Angelus, that bastard of a Grand Sire. What had really happened in hell? Never had he seen his Sire kill his own kind with such apparent ease.

And who the hell were that tall redhead? He got chills of fear down the back by the pure sight of her. There was something familiar about her as she stepped close to the smaller pentagram, facing Cathla with an arrogant twist of her eyebrows as the others stepped up behind her.

Buffy stepped up to the tall redhead. "I guess we won. In less than two hours we took down your whole army. Well, except Spike. But that's only because he hid within that protection pentagram. I'll soon enough deal with him. Now it is your turn. Slaying is my duty. And you are my victim."

Cathla looked at the petite Slayer and felt the power within her. She would never win in a hand-to-hand fight against her, she realised. Then she smiled viciously. Luckily she wouldn't have to fight her physically, because the Slayer had no chance at standing against the magic power of Cathla the Great. With a maniacal laughter, she released a power beam that left the Slayer dazed on the floor. But she was strong. That beam would have killed any other Slayer. Cathla found amusement in watching her slowly get back on her feet.

"Puny mortal," she laughed. "Haven't you realised it yet. You are all helpless against me. The only one that can defeat me is another Warrior Sorceress or Sorcerer of the first circle of hell, O-"

"Or a naturally born Warrior Sorceress or Sorcerer in the service of the Powers That Be." The tall redhead said as she stepped forth. "And," she continued with an evil smirk, "that would be me. I am a naturally born Sorceress in the service of the Powers That Be, and the most powerful gypsy mage in the world. If you are counting on the warrior-part to give you a chance, sorry, I am also a Slayer. And if a Slayer isn't a warrior, then what is? As I said earlier, I am your death. I will deal with you in a moment. But first I have some private business to attend to."

She turned over to Spike and easily stepped through the protection pentagram.

"Who are you," he said as he eased into a fighting stance.

"Hello Spike. Long time no see. Don't you recognise your ex lover. It's me, Drusilla. Except, now I am what I was supposed to be from the start. My soul and life has returned. And I am once again Drusilla the Vampire Slayer.

"William, William. Dear William. How could you do this to me. I see it didn't take long for you to forget me. But damn it boy, I thought you had better taste than to jump into bed with this half ugly ice-cold bitch!" She tilted her head and for a moment her eyes turned bright yellow. "It hurts Spike," she said. "It hurts more than you can ever imagine." Crystal clear tears started run down her cheeks as her eyes went back to brown again.

What the hell!!! Giles thought. Drusilla a Slayer? It couldn't be! And Edith couldn't possible be the insane vampire that he had encountered at several times. This couldn't be. Yet it was, Drusilla, one of the good guys? Incredible!! 

"NO! You aren't my beloved Drusilla. You may look like her, but there's not a chance that you are her! Drusilla can never regain her soul. Your Sire made sure of that." And with that Spike attacked with a frightening roar. But as quick as he attacked, he was struck to the floor by a perfectly performed roundhouse kick.

"I'm coming to you," Drusilla said to Cathla. "I just have one last thing to do." And with that she reached into a back purse and took out an Orb of Thesula. Looking at it for a moment with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I have to hurt you," she said before she started chanting. In ancient Romanian she performed the soul-restoring spell. But with one great difference: this time it wasn't a curse. It was a spell cast from love. Not from hate.

Finished with the soul-restoring spell, she continued chanting while spreading a fist full of herbs over him. And for the first time Chatla felt fear as Drusilla started to chant in a language so old that it hadn't been used for aeons of time.

Goddess Hecathe! She is using the Valheru magic. The magic of the Dragonlords from the birth of time! she thought. Chatla watched as the Slayer-vampire moulded the very fabrics of the universe as she saw fit. With a loud thunder, blue lightning's started to run across Spike's body in a random pattern, making his body convulse in pain. As quickly as it started, the lightning disappeared. And as Spike collapsed to the floor, they could all see how the demon left him and disappeared with a scream of rage. Drusilla bent down and softly stroke Spike on the cheek, wiping away a single bloodstained tear. Then she stood up and turned towards Cathla again. With a power beam she destroyed both of the protection pentagrams.

"Now Chatla," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "Now it is you and I. Prepare to be destroyed."

"We'll see about that," the Sorceress said and released an elven death-spell. She laughed maniacally as she saw Drusilla fall to the floor. But her triumph was short as Drusilla got back on her feet again. And with a battle cry she sent a power beam that almost swept the Sorceress to the floor. Barely regaining her balance, the Sorceress retaliated with a power beam on her own.

"I must admit I'm impressed," she growled. "Not many creatures would survive that death-spell. But what about this?" Cathla moved her hands in an intricate pattern. And suddenly Drusilla fell to the ground, gasping for air.

"Lets see how long you can survive without oxygen," the Sorceress said, and prepared for the death stroke. But just then Drusilla's eyes turned bright yellow as her vampire visage appeared. And as she smoothly rose from the floor. She laughed softly.

"Chatla, Chatla! Haven't you learned anything after living for 750 years? Not even after making Spike cheat on me? One does not try to strangle a vampire. They don't need oxygen. And conveniently I am part vampire. So all I have to do is to switch into vamp mode, and tada! I'm back."

With that she released a flying spin kick to Cathla's jaw. Followed by a power beam, and a vampiric pain curse. But the second after, she reeled backwards after a second death-spell. And this time Drusilla felt it as a searing pain in her heart. But the pain gave fuel to her rage, and she concentrated deeply.

"Lets see how you like your own medicine," she hissed as she fought herself back on feet. With a broken scream Chatla stumbled backwards desperately gasping for breath. But the mighty Warrior Sorceress of the First Circle of Hell hadn't lost the fight. Quickly she reached within her robe and pulled out an Icelandic magic symbol, or Galder as they are called there. Drucilla saw what it was. It was a Rothas Cross, one of the mightiest wards against magic. And seconds later, the evil Sorceress could breathe again and literally emitted sparks of rage.

"Goddess Hekathe!! You are better than I thought. You actually managed to take away my oxygen by pure willpower. To my knowledge, only one person has done that before. And that was the legendary Cassandra. It was such a waste of power that she joined the white-hats. And now you're gotten soft too. The famous Drusilla has gained a soul. Such a shame!" And with that she started a magical attack that went beyond anything the ex-vampire could imagine. Pure fear went through Drusilla as she fully learned the power of Cathla. And as she fell to the floor engulfed in magical flames, she saw that the Sorceress even had the reserves to start creating the Hellmouth at the same time. Demons started crawling through the dimensional rift. It was game, set and match.

End of chapter nine


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